England's Heroic Fantasy
by mymanisfictional
Summary: While spending an evening at America's house, England finds himself sneaking off to take care of his little problem, and as he does his thoughts turn to a certain blonde, but not the one you may be thinking of.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

* * *

"I have to go upstairs for a moment," England murmured, standing up as soon as the movie credits began to roll on the television screen. It had been unbearable sitting through that; he needed to take care of his little problem immediately, before it became too apparent.

"But the movie only just ended!" America exclaimed, blinking at the Brit in surprise.

"I know, I know," England replied uneasily. "Just… pick out another one, okay? I'll only be a few minutes."

Studying him carefully, America eventually shrugged and turned back to the large selection of DVDs. "Whatever, dude, but if you're not back by the time the popcorn's done, I'm starting the movie without you," he said, already looking for which film he wanted to watch next.

England didn't respond. He was already halfway up the stairs, and he quickly made his way into the guest room, which was his while he was staying in the United States. He gave the door a soft push to close it most of the way. It remained open a crack, but that was alright, because it allowed him to keep an eye and an ear out, just in case America got impatient and came upstairs looking for him.

He sat on the bed and, with one swift movement, lowered both his trousers and boxers. Lying back, he palmed himself until he was fully erect, and once so, gripped his hard member. He began to stroke.

Meanwhile, America was growing restless downstairs. Something was weird about the way England ran upstairs after the movie. Setting down the movie he had just picked out - _Rush Hour 3 _– he went upstairs, skipping over the steps that creaked. He paused when he reached the top, listening intently, but so far he could hear nothing. What the hell was England up to?

England was finding it harder and harder to stay quiet. His breathing was harsh and ragged and his skin flushed pink from his thoughts. Biting his lip, he continued his fantasy about the strong blonde American hero, touching himself the entire time. "America," he breathed out, unable to say anymore for the moment.

Letting his eyes fall shut, he mentally undressed his gorgeous fantasy lover. He wanted to run his hands through those soft golden locks, down his tanned skin all the way down to that sexy arse of his. He could only imagine the sort of deep, possessing kiss he would give him, and England let out a low moan. He wanted to undress that man slowly, he wanted to rip his clothes off, and he wanted to have sex with him in every position imaginable. Once again, England let out a whisper of, "…America…"

Out in the hall, America crept closer and closer to the guest bedroom, where the rustling of sheets and low murmurs had been the clue as to England's location. He had his back pressed to the wall secret agent style and ever so slowly he peered into the room...

And immediately whipped his head back out and leaned against the wall shakily.

'_Was England really jacking off?' _America thought frantically, his cheeks unusually pink. '_What the hell, man?!'_

America slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He felt his heart pounding with excitement as he crawled over to look into the room again. It wouldn't hurt to watch for a little while, right? It was his house, after all. Feeling the flush on his cheeks deepen, America brought his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle hard. '_Damn, I wish I had brought the popcorn.'_

"America," England moaned. He was getting louder, but his mind was hazy with lust; he wanted to scream out his favorite imaginary lover's name. Even if that wasn't really his name.

Positioned by the very threshold of the doorway, America nearly blew his cover with the loud gasp he emitted after hearing England call out his name. He looked down at his now very apparent boner and groaned softly. Unable to help himself, his hand drifted down towards his pants.

England continued to let out soft moans and whimpers as his fantasies ran rampant through his mind. "Oh yes, be my hero," he cried out. His lover would like that- yes, he could already see him nodding his approval and leaning in close to give him his reward for such a line. "Ahh," he groaned out.

America broke the skin on his knuckle as he bit down hard and nearly came in his pants, letting out a half strangled sound. If England continued to say things like that, he would have to barge in and take him right there. Hard.

England's hands were moving faster and faster over his skin; he was so close.

America was incredibly turned on; going mad with lust at the knowledge that England was touching himself to the thought of-

"Steve!"

America eyes shot open and his just barely stifled "What?!" was luckily unheard under England's cries of ecstasy.

"Ah yes, Steve!" England shouted in the heat of his orgasm.

Oh. Hell. No. America scrambled to his feet and barged into the room. "What the hell are you doing?!" he asked, feeling outraged.

The Brit quickly yanked up blanket to cover himself, although the evidence was all over the sheets. "W-what do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed, cheeks flushed red in mortification. "Haven't you ever heard of bloody knocking?"

America glared at him, seething with jealousy. "Why the fuck did you yell out Steve when you saying _my _name the whole time?"

England blinked. "Your name?"

"Yes. You kept moaning 'America!' You even asked me to be your hero!"

"Oh, that," England mumbled. He looked more embarrassed than before if possible. "I didn't mean you…"

Now America was just confused. "Who else could you have been talking about?"

"…Captain America…"

America was silent as he took in this information. Suddenly, he began to laugh. "Really now, dude?" he asked between his chuckles.

"Shut up! Leave me to my fantasies!"

When his laughter finally faded, America shook his head with a coy grin. He pounced on England and pinned him down to the bed. "That's the last time I let you watch _The Avengers_," he murmured and locked their lips in a much needed kiss.

* * *

**Needless to say, I've had this idea in my head since I saw The Avengers, although I admit I got kinda lazy while writing...*cough cough* Oh and in case it wasn't clear enough, England was horny after watching The Avengers and was thinking of Steve (Captain America) the entire time. He only said "America" before because it's kind of a mouthful to say "Captain America" when you're all flustered like that. **

**Anyway, I hoped you guys liked it, and please let me know what you thought about it in a review! Remember, reviews help me improve and they make me smile~ :D A happy writer is... well, happy. And writes more fics for you. :3**


End file.
